The Outsider From Beyond
by Emrakul
Summary: The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world. After a work trip gone haywire, Harry finds himself in an alternate universe where Neville is the boy-who lived and his female self is a Slytherin. Tags: AU, Light!Harry , Alive James & Lily, Good!Dumbledore.
1. Chapter 1

**The Outsider From Beyond**

 **Tags:** AU, Dimensional, Travel, Mostly Light! Harry, and Powerful! Harry

 **DISCLAIMER** : I do not own _Harry Potter_ , or any affiliated characters, and make no profit from this story

* * *

It was a wintery mid-December evening, one in which a former Dark Lord vanquisher found himself meeting his latest client in the office of his startup company: _Druid_ _Runeworks._

"Mr. Potter, are you with us?" asked the client tersely.

Harry yawned at the question. He had been working late all night on a complex high-level rune script for the DMLE. It was requested at an extremely short notice and paid the biggest commission he had ever gotten since starting the company. Usually Harry would get help from his employees, but in his half-witted attempts at being a good boss he let them start their Christmas break early.

"Yes Mr. Clark, the warding algorithms for the new magical settlements will be scheduled for February at earliest. I'm afraid these new parameters will further complicate things especially in accordance to wizarding secrecy regulations. I'm sure you also understand the increase in commission price."

The pasty suit glared at him. He stood up from his chair angrily with his face turning a nasty purple color not unlike his late uncle.

"You promised at the beginning that you would fulfil the contract at most in a month! There can't be any settlements built and sold without your blasted wards guarding the estates. I've got a lot riding on this, and there's a shareholder meeting coming up."

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. All 43 waking hours seemed to come crashing on him at that moment. He reached for the small cup on his desk and retched as he swigged down the now regrettably cold coffee.

"OK. I completely understand. I mean it. But, you can't come in and request a simple defense rune ward for a street and then ask for a complex one the size of a quidditch pitch at the end of the month. That's just not how it works. Any competing firm would demand a completely new contract, but I'm willing to give it to you at 20% off."

Disheartened, the business man sagged into his chair with dismay. It was late and the dark circles around his eyes meant he wasn't fairing any better than Harry. He stared at the dusty picture of the Golden Trio on the desk next to the haphazard stacks of paper and other stationary.

"Do you miss them?" he suddenly said, pointing toward the picture.

"Who?" Harry wondered before noticing his gesture.

"Oh... Oh yea."

Harry suddenly found himself starting at his shoes, his business persona disappearing. The lump in his throat choked any attempts to say anything else. An uncomfortable silence covered the office.

Feeling slightly awkward, the businessman got up and looked at his watch.

"Sweet Merlin, would you look at the time," he muttered.

"Here-take my business card. I think I'll be going now. You can contact me after the break on the new payment and ward runes. It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Potter."

The door shut behind him without a sound as if it had been charmed to.

"What a tosser."

* * *

Harry looked around the empty building as he finished packing and closing his personal office. He reached for his grey cashmere coat that was a gift from his contract work in India.

He paused just inside the small lobby of the building to light his roll-up of fanged-bear leaf, imported from South America, just before the door swung open.

Two official looking people sauntered in the room bringing in the smell of winter rain. The first one was a hard stern but honest looking man that reminded Harry of a more confident Neville. The second was much younger even compared to Harry and had an air of mischievousness that was almost cocky.

"I'm Senior Auror Tom Barnaby and this is my assistant Gavin Troy. We're here for the counter curse rune ward the DMLE commissioned on December 2nd."

Leaning against the wall, Harry paused and took a long drag on his cigar before blowing out the foul-smelling smoke. He leveled a cool gaze at the aurors before quickly drawing his wand on them.

In shock, Gavin backpedaled and stumbled over a trashcan only to fall on the ground. Barnaby stared in confusion at his easily excitable apprentice before calmly turning back to Harry.

"Look, there's no need to get violent. We're only here for one thing," said Barnaby before showing his empty hands.

Unmoving, Harry grinned at older auror before replying" Sorry about that, I just need to see your I.D please. Constant vigilance and all that."

Chuckling, Barnaby fiddled with his jacket before pulling out his badge and nudged Troy to do the same.

"I thought you knew Mad-eye," said Barnaby.

With a reminiscent look in his eyes, Harry replied "He was the best damn mentor I ever had. Oddly enough, he never taught me for a single day."

The senior auror nodded sagely at his words remembering the fiasco with Barty Crouch Junior.

"Wait a minute, who's Mad-eye?"

Harry and Barnaby glanced at each other before looking at Troy in exasperation.

"Bloody Greenhorns."

* * *

Harry walked the aurors over to where the company kept high level and borderline forbidden rune scripts. Some of them even approached dark arts territory. The storage was well into the underground basement of the building. He approached an innocuous looking wall at the back before looking pointedly at them.

"Can't a man get a bit of privacy," Harry chided.

After they looked away abashedly, he tapped his wand on the wall in a peculiar method until bricks broke away to reveal a vast array of almost endless locked vaults.

"Welcome, to my own personal Gringotts," Harry announced before bowing in mock ceremony.

"This is where _Druid Runeworks_ stores all high-level rune scripts for let's say elite clientele. As it happens, the DMLE is among my most generous benefactors."

"After you, gentlemen," Harry motioned with his hand towards a particular vault in the room.

He hovered his hand near the vault until a steel spike suddenly extended from the door and cut into his palm. Within a second, the door opened with jerk and the cut had healed leaving no trace.

"Blood wards" Harry replied to the unasked question. Barnaby nodded in pragmatic understanding while Troy looked disgusted.

Inside lay a small dark brown briefcase inside the relatively large empty vault. Troy gingerly touched the briefcase before yanking it into his own hands.

They emerged back into the small lobby where now Harry's rollup was on its last embers. He gave one last puff before he mushed it into an ashtray.

"Well gentlemen, it seems everything is in order now. I'll ring up the DMLE tomorrow for the payment so -"

"I'm afraid that's not all we need unfortunately," interrupted Barnaby. "We need you to come with us to input the runes for us."

Groaning, Harry turned around and exclaimed "Do you even know what time it is? Merlin knows I need a hot shower and some rest. I do not want to spend even an extra half hour inputting in a 12-page script for you lot past midnight."

Wordlessly the two aurors looked at each other before Troy stepped towards Harry with a large sack.

"We'll pay you, sir. Extra. "he added hastily after Harry opened his mouth indignantly.

Harry grabbed the bag from Troy and shook it around trying to get a feel for the money. It felt heavily, and he heard a noisy clanging from the metal currency bouncing against each other.

"How much is even in here?"

"Twelve thousand galleons," replied Troy.

Harry opened his mouth in shock. Twelve thousand galleons? With that kind of money, he could get twelve new staff members. He could get Teddy that new expensive broom he was always whining about. Maybe he could even redesign the décor of his offi—

"I'll do it," Harry announced.

Sighing in relief, Barnaby checked his watch and reached for the door.

"Alright listen, I've got a portkey set up to take us to a nearby location. After that, we should reach the destination give or take 7 minutes with plenty of time before 1:00 am for you to run your runes. C'mon Potter, let's go."

Silently Harry followed with only the possibilities of twelve thousand galleons on his mind.

* * *

"So, where exactly is this place if you don't mind me asking," asked Harry as he looked around the squalid hamlet.

The foreboding weald that surrounded the grimy village seemed impenetrable with its dark aura. The town was in clear neglect as the cluster of sinking mansard roofs and gables had even toppled in on itself. As they approached along the old road that went through the town, there was a visible dearth of life. A nearby harbor gave way to a collection of moldering wharves with the brackish water bearing a tinge of malignancy.

Even at this late hour, there were a few residents that trekked around aimlessly with a queer shamble and a bulgy fishlike stare. It seemed almost as if dark magic had corrupted the lands and twisted it into a bleaker version of itself. The feeling reminded Harry of Number twelve, Grimmauld Place but in a more ominous sense.

"This hamlet is called Somber Grove. It's been tucked away in some forgotten backwoods of Scotland. A prominent, noble, and pureblood family whose lineage predated even Roman times used to live here. However, the last heir was afflicted by madness after his ever-growing interest in the dark arts depraved his own mind. Now, the Ministry wants to repossess the estate and repurpose it for a new commercial district," lectured Barnaby.

Harry whistled as he surveyed the dismal village. He peered through one eye between his fingers that imitated a camera before taking a snapshot of the place.

"That's pretty interesting to think that someone would want to go shopping here. With all due respect, I hope they realize this place can give Knockturn Alley a run for its money," remarked Harry.

They walked until they emerged near a hilltop where a tenebrous crumbling manor sat on its perch overlooking the entire estate. After walking through the front door, which hung resiliently on its last hinge, they saw series of holes that lead into tunnels.

Barnaby walked forward and pointed at the biggest tunnel.

"From the recent excavations, the foul corruption seems to be coming from the below the Manor. After further research, we realized that this is the very epicenter of the infestation," commented the senior auror. They walked through the twisting tunnel only to come to a stop at a massive metal door.

The door was huge It was easily three times Harry's height and was covered in an intricate scribble of runes.

"Finally, something for me to do! "Harry.

The rune decryption was one of the hardest he ever had to do so far. Multiple times Harry had to adjust or even outright modify the prepared rune script just to protect them from a hidden defense ward. After much work, Harry finally triggered the rune script. It wasn't a quick process, but slowly the metal door started glowing and humming as a bright magical light started rippling across its many runes.

"Its… its ACTUALLY working!" sputtered Harry.

Suddenly in one final burst the light, the huge metal doors blackened and suddenly crumbled into the ground like dust. After a grueling forty-five minutes, Harry rejoiced triumphantly "By _Merlin,_ I thought it was going to take forever! The blasted thing is finally down."

He looked back at the aurors eager to share his triumph only to find out that unfortunately, they were dozing the whole time. After some not so gentle rousing from Harry, a yawning Troy sleepily got up and stretched loudly before nudging his mentor awake.

"I'm so glad I didn't choose such a boring and wimpy job like rune scribing."

Harry glared at the young man before cuffing his ears.

"Listen wanker, I've slayed Dark lords before you learned how to use both of your wands. Kids these days have no damn respect."

Chuckling at their antics, Barnaby pulled out his wand quietly mumbled under his breath

" _Lumos_!"

A bright bulb of light burst out of his wand tip like a star in a pitch-black sky. The magical flashlight illuminated the path forward inside the underground dungeon. The group now moved past the crumbled doors to the lair of evil itself. They followed the path as it crossed several time in a serpentine manner before finally coming into the dungeon proper.

The dungeon was lined several bookcases, skulls, and other skeletal bones. It expanded into a wide-open space with the center comprising of a massive pit surrounded by fantastic and strange altars.

"So much for your dark infestation, sir" jeered Troy as he looked around the dusty and occult-like room.

"I've always hated reading, but I never thought books could actually cause dark curses. Maybe we should be investigating Hogwarts instead."

Troy slowly walked up to one of the many bookcases and reached out to touch one of the texts, but Barnaby swiftly snapped onto one of his arms.

"Don't you dare touch anything. It could be all cursed," hissed Barnaby, but Troy's attention was elsewhere as he was pointed out with his other hand.

"What's Mr. Potter doing over there?" he asked, pointing.

Harry stared down into the pit. It was like looking down at the void itself. Not even _Lumos_ 's dependable light could pierce its stygian curtain. The chasm reminded Harry of the Veil down at the Department of Mysteries. He knew that if he fell, he would be facing his parents and retelling his very mundane death. He wondered what Hermione and Ron would think. However, something about the abyss betrayed its barren image. Despite all appearances to the contrary, Harry knew by a lurching feeling in his gut that Barnaby wasn't just telling tall tales.

"Mr. Potter, for heaven's sake please get away from the edge!"

Barnaby grabbed his shoulder and slightly pulled him away. Harry looked like he was stuck in a trance before he turned and faced the grizzled auror.

"Relax, I'm not going to try to off myself by jumping in."

The older man sighed "Good, I refuse to have anyone die on my- OOF!"

Barnaby slipped and crashed on the slick ground. Harry's eyebrows shot up as he looked at the wet puddle in surprise.

"What the hell, there wasn't any water there before," Harry puzzled before offering a hand to Barnaby. The auror cursed before the pair decided to group with Troy. As they drew near the younger auror, Harry saw that Troy was holding a book near his face and was reading it.

"Troy, I told you to not touch those books damn you!" Barnaby swore. Troy didn't even respond. It was almost eerie how he quietly had his face almost glued to the book. Barnaby advanced and this time bellowed angrily "TROY DROP THAT BOOK OR I'M GONNA-"

Troy dropped the book.

His hands flopped at his sides while his head dropped to the left almost lifelessly. The whole behavior was unnatural of the normally cocky auror and made Harry's tiny hair stand on edge. Barnaby approached his apprentice and laid a trembling hand on his shoulder. His face was painted full of concern and uncertainty.

"Are you alright son?" worried Barnaby.

Suddenly a tiny tremor reverberated throughout the ground. Books tumbled down from their lofty shelves while the bones rattled in their place. Troy suddenly snapped up and turned around with eyes agape and heavy breathing.

Suddenly, a smile split his face and he started wailing and flailing maniacally at the top of his lungs. Harry couldn't make out any of his words. It was all complete gibberish. Deliriously, Troy started scratching his face as if to rip his eyes out until Barnaby tackled him.

A second tremor rippled the earth.

The senior auror grappled frantically with the maniac Troy until his apprentice start to bite and claw him like a rabid animal. Frustrated, Barnaby pushed him away before pulling out his wand.

" _Stupefy_!"

A red beam of light erupted from his wand and slammed into the crazed auror finally incapacitating him. Barnaby heaved against the wall with his hands barely holding onto a crevice. Harry could only watch the auror as tiny whispers from the back of his head screeched of terrible outcomes. His mouth ran dry as he felt the darkness closing in and suffocating the tiny light that emanated from his wand tip.

The third tremor cascaded with an echoing pounding until finally _the Thing from the Abyss burst from the pit._

When Harry looked at it a cold wash went down his back. It was the foulest and most terrible monstrous being Harry had ever seen. It made boogeymen and simple pelagic nightmares a mere afterthought. Neither flesh or simple matter was the sole composition of the monster due to its simultaneous formlessness and rigidness. Even the horrific image of the creature tore at his sanity as now even Harry wanted to rip his own eyes out. He was completely frozen in shock despite his heart thumping painfully. It rippled throughout the darkness slowly reeling Harry in like a fisherman to its simpleminded prey. The monster started screeching a horrifying song that drove Harry maddeningly insane. He started seeing hallucinations of a horrific nature crawling throughout the ground. _He even started feeling things crawling inside his skin_.

Harry desperately looked back at the aurors for some help. However, where the aurors were now laid two gleaming skeletons. Their skeletal visages mockingly grinned at him almost as if on a secret joke.

 _It was all a machination of this monster_ Harry realized. He could not hope to fight this horror. Humanity was a mere sustenance for such a monstrosity. There was nothing for him in this hell. Nothing at all. The room stretched before him until it snatched him in its appendages. Slowly it began to pull him inside that vile pit. Then, something strange began to happen as he looked inside the monster's mouth. Harry began to truly see the terrible revelations of the universe. He witnessed the infinite entanglements of space, time and the insignificance of mankind until the creature's maw ultimately and finally closed shut.

* * *

Harry woke up with a gasp.

He looked around him in disbelief. His eyebrows shot up to the stratosphere as he looked at his intact and not-quite mangled body.

 _How the hell am I alive_ Harry wondered. Either that was by far the worst drugged up nightmare, or he was in hell. But hell wasn't supposed to look like typical generic forest with pristine unspoiled grass. At least it was until Harry heaved his last meal on it.

He looked around blearily until he saw something that gave him a cold flash. It was the sack of twelve thousand galleons.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Outsider From Beyond**

 **Tags:** AU, Dimensional, Travel, Mostly Light! Harry, and Powerful! Harry

 **DISCLAIMER** : I do not own _Harry Potter_ , or any affiliated characters, and make no profit from this story

* * *

 _CRACK!_

Harry noisily apparated into the middle of Diagon Alley. He stumbled clumsily into a large man holding a triple-stacked ice cream cone near Florean Fortescue's Ice cream parlor. The human walrus fumed angrily, but the watching hawk-eyed mothers nearby forcibly pacified him.

" _Watch_ where you're going kid, fucking hell!" he brayed with a cockney accent. "Bastard ruined my son's ice cream."

Harry winced as he looked at the man's sad-faced, chubby kid before fleeing the scene. _Off to a great start aren't we, Potter,_ Harry sarcastically thought. He rushed through the alley, despite a few stumbles, clutching the bag of galleons, until he reached the marbled pillars of Gringotts.

 _How strange,_ Harry wondered as he climbed the steps to the prestigious bank. No strangers were glancing at him or even a crowd of reporters wanting an interview. The former dark-lord-vanquisher normally didn't have the privilege of anonymity without his trusty invisibility cloak. _Usually I would have a dozen people wanting my autograph by now._

Even the appearance of the cobblestoned shopping district was slightly unfamiliar to Harry. There were several shops Harry outright didn't even recognize. All the scorched bricks and shattered statues from the spell damage were repaired good as new; any vestigial remnants of the Second Wizarding War were vanished from all appearance. The entire vicinity was brimming with an air of affluence, untouched by the carnage of war. It was mildly jarring, but Harry wasn't unfamiliar to the strange.

 _The market must be really booming lately,_ Harry thought cheerfully.

He opened the doors of the bank into the grand marbled hallway. Its appearance openly boasted the ostentatious opulence and the imperial nature of the goblin race. Harry inwardly groaned as he looked at the long lines swamping every bank representative. Various sounds of paperwork shuffling, quills scratching, trolleys creaking and customers arguing filled the air; The entire bank operated like a well-oiled machine. Harry resignedly stepped in line behind an elderly wizard, but not before tripping yet again.

 _When did these clothes fit me so poorly,_ Harry irritably wondered. His fashionable well-fitted cashmere coat was now baggy. Harry's navy-blue business robes and trousers were now billowing like Dudley's old shirts back in Surrey. Even his expensive dragon leather shoes were too roomy.

He pulled out his wand and murmured a quick fitting charm that quickly fixed them, but not before getting an earnest prodding at his side. A plate armored goblin bearing the official Gringotts heraldry tapped him with the butt end of a spear before leveling the head near his throat. The goblin peered at him through the helm suspiciously before calling out in a raspy voice.

"No magic allowed in the bank."

Harry gave a small strained smile before nodding in forced compliance. He turned his head to the side after the goblin clanked away before muttering under his breath.

" _Bastard_."

* * *

After a grueling forty-five minutes, Harry finally arrived at the front of the line. The goblin in front of him was immaculately well dressed wearing a conservative, muggle-styled, business outfit. The creature shuffled the nearby pile of paper forms in a precise manner until they formed a neat stack. He laced his hands in an interlocking manner before looking at Harry curiously.

"Next customer."

Harry walked over to the ergonomic desk with the bag of money clasped tightly in his right hand. The weight of the currency brightened Harry's mood with each step. He placed the bag on the side of the desk before looking at the goblin. With an inquisitive look, the bank representative pulled out one of the forms and dipped his quill in ink before questioning Harry in a throaty voice.

"My name is Rannuk. Can I help you…?"

"Yes, I would like to make a deposit, please."

The goblin looked at Harry puzzled with one eyebrow raised.

"Pardon my presumptuousness, but you seem a _bit_ young to be holding an independent bank account," he responded with a raspy drawl.

Harry scowled at the Gringotts representative with mild irritation. "Could you spare me your _incessant_ drivel for once? I've been waiting for almost a damn hour for this."

"I apologize sir, but I really must-."

Harry crossly leaned over and gripped the desk with both of his hands. His lousy temper was overriding any polite façade he kept when dealing with the goblins. He closed the distance to the bank representative until they were almost nose to nose. "Why do you lot always seek to antagonize me every _single_ time I come in here," Harry snarled. "Can't believe you cave-dwelling, disgusting, blighters _still_ haven't let go of that break in during the War."

"Sir, I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about."

"Then let's get on with it," Harry spat out, pushing away from the desk.

Taken aback, the Rannuk sighed and collected himself after that heated exchange. He quickly peered at the forms before turning back to Harry. "Now I just need to fill out some paperwork before we get started," to which Harry replied with a grunt.

"Name?"

"Harry James Potter."

"Age?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Date of birth?"

"July 31st, 1980."

Rannuk paused in the middle of his dutiful writing to shoot a predatory smirk at Harry. His lips peeled back revealing a sharp row of pearly pointed teeth. In response, Harry gave back an annoyed glower with his arms crossed, and his foot tapping impatiently.

"Fascinating, the reason for visit?"

He pointed to the nearby sack of galleons lying before announcing boastfully. "I would like to deposit twelve-thousand galleons."

The announcement slightly quieted the noise around them. Some of the other customers were even glancing at him in mild shock. Harry puffed up his chest with pride. After all, what was the point of hard work without a little showboating now and then. Besides, this should quell those nasty tabloid rumors about his disappearing family fortune from the Daily Prophet.

With his eyes open in surprise, the bank manager nodded in incredulity before replying "I see. Am I correct in saying you're tied to the Potter family accounts?"

Harry glared at him. "Are you deaf? It's in the bloody name. Of course, I am. Can we _please_ get on with this?"

With immeasurable patience, the goblin held up a finger before replying, "I just need your vault key and to verify our records with your statements. Then, we can deposit it for you."

After taking the key from him, the goblin hopped off the tall stool and scurried into the record office.

Harry rolled his eyes impatiently while waiting for the bank representative. He always hated Gringotts. Their government-backed monopoly on the magical banking system was an abomination in Harry's eyes. Its very essence represented every single heretical violation of the sacred free market. Not to mention, Gringotts singlehandedly plunged the magical economy into a recession with its irresponsible loan practices. He fought with tooth and nail to abolish their oppression on the economy, but in the end, Harry couldn't out bribe ministers against a bank. His funds had vanished after the recession had killed almost every investment he made.

Harry still remembered helping George close down _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_ temporarily during the recession. He still remembered helping a crying Molly and Arthur forced to sell their family home. He still remembered holding a sobbing Andromeda when her retirement fund evaporated.

In the middle of his thoughts, the goblin arrived breathing heavily and clutching a bulging manila folder. He haphazardly flipped through every single sheet. The goblin did this for three minutes until he was out of papers sort through. He sneered at Harry, giving that same predatory smile, before erupting into a guttural laugh. His cruel howling roared above the normal din of the bank, making everyone look at them.

"What's gotten you so loony, besides existing of course."

"It seems," Rannuk replied nonchalantly, before leaning back and examining his fingernails, "Mr. Harry, You don't appear to _exist_."

Harry's face turned red with rage. He was about to draw his wand on the good-for-nothing goblin until Rannuk spoke again.

"There were no records that show you're tied to the Potter vaults. Only James and Lily Potter remain the primary authorizers with their child having minor rights. Moreover, there wasn't a single record that showed you _ever_ had a transaction at Gringotts."

Harry grabbed the representative's shirt before pulling him close.

" _HAVE YOU GONE MAD? JAMES AND LILY POTTER ARE MY DEAD PARENTS,_ " Harry roared.

"What a load of _rubbish_ ," called out a familiar voice behind him. Harry whirled around in anger at that voice before blanching.

A young Tom Barnaby stood in line behind him with that same stern look on his face. " I just met James an hour ago at the DMLE. The kid must be off his rockers."

A young woman briefly stepped out of the adjacent line and looked at Harry." And I just had tea with Lily this morning. She can't be dead."

An ashen Harry pointed a trembling finger at Barnaby before gasping, "How the HELL are you even here."

"And who the _fuck_ even are you," Harry shouted at the woman, shaking.

The dirty-blonde haired woman gave him a concerned look before replying, "My name is Marlene Black. I'm Sirius Black's wife."

After a brief pause, Rannuk chose that moment to interrupt Harry's complete mental breakdown. "The boy is obviously unwell. He claims to be twenty-eight despite being born eleven years from today."

Harry stumbled back and fell to the ground in disbelief. His jaw was slack from shock-the barrage of completely unbelievable information splintering his mind. Rannuk peered over the desk at Harry's prone form.

"Mr. Harry, I don't think you need a bank," advised the goblin in an obnoxious, patronizing voice. "I believe what you're looking for is a _mind healer_."

* * *

Harry left Gringotts with paralyzed with shock. How could James and Lily be alive?

 _Insanity_.

Yet despite everything that happened so far, Harry felt a sinking feeling growing in his chest. It seeped into his heart with a heavy, desperate feeling. It crawled under his skin like a cold prickling. And finally, it corrupted his mind, filling it with the insane delusions of a depressed boy in his cupboard, daydreaming of his parents.

He still remembered fantasizing of his parents, resurrected by the divine, barging into Number 4, Privet drive to save their little boy; their little boy that lives locked away in a spider infested cupboard. He who lives unloved and uncared for.

Harry shut his teary eyes.

He had to find out. How couldn't he?

Nothing made sense so far. The entire world was splitting at its delicate seams.

* * *

 _CRACK!_

He apparated into Godric's hollow, sprinting as soon as he touched the ground. He charged through the cobblestoned residential streets with wild abandon. The tranquility of the quaint, English village was shattered by his erratic footsteps. Most of the villagers had retired in their homes or the local pub. They were blissfully unaware of the manic visitor in their town.

The entire village was covered by the comforting pink blanket of the early evening sun. A flock of crows, perched on the trees, cawed as Harry broke past the gate into the neighborhood cemetery. They circled overhead mocking him with their cacophony of caws.

Harry trekked across the wet cut grass with each step slightly faltering. He dreaded every step as he walked across row upon row of tombstones. Every single rational cog in his mind ground in a horrifying, rusty screech in protest. But Harry was beyond reasonable thought now. He was only guided by the sound of madness coursing in the depths of his mind.

He stared at the empty spot in the cemetery. The place used to host the Potter Memorial, a stone statue of his dear parents holding a baby Harry. He religiously visited it every year on October. The physical representation of his parent's death was gone. The empty space tore into his psyche and reality like a schizophrenic episode. A profound nauseating feeling gripped him as it taunted him mercilessly.

Harry screamed.

* * *

Harry left the cemetery. His mind was on autopilot as he stumbled toward the Potter Cottage. The wind picked up abruptly and gusted his face with the cool night air. Harry's coat started flapping like a flag. The sky seemed to darken as if to empathize with his distraught self. He could hear the nearby laughter of the drunken residents from the pub.

He bitterly looked upon his birth home. There was no solemn memorial sign towering over the hedge. The entire house was intact and covered with charming, magical decorations. The windows were brightly lit, and indecipherable sounds of a happy family seeped outside. A delicious aroma of cinnamon, sugar and, apples came wafting out that made Harry's mouth water. A pie sat cooling on a ledge near an open window.

Harry opened the gate quietly and cast the strongest disillusionment charm he could on himself. He trudged across the lawn near a closed window and peered inside.

It was like staring into heaven. Sirius, Remus and that woman from the bank were all singing and laughing merrily. They were all drunk-on alcohol and euphoria. Harry almost didn't even recognize Remus. His smile was so wildly different from the usual sad and shabby-faced look he carried till death. Sirius himself had turned into a god of celebration. He singlehandedly carried the spirit of festivity through his vivacious voice. Only now, Harry could truly understand the depth of the damage in Azkaban. And there were his parents

 _His parents._

Harry gripped the window with the palm of his hands. He was so close his breath was slightly fogging the window. They were like angels dancing in a lively fashion. James moved with Lily in complete sync. They whirled around the floor in the rhythm of the singing. James, his father, was _so handsome_. Lily, his mother, was _a queen_ among women.

They were just all so beautiful and perfect.

They were just so perfect without him.

A tremendous feeling seized Harry. Pain couldn't even begin to describe it. A hot torrent of tears began running down his face. The whole scene before him was beautiful and simultaneously torturous. He could not look, nor could he look away.

The desire to barge into the paradise was greater than anything he had ever known. It would be so easy just to break open the door. He would explain everything from their supposed death to his encounter with the _Thing from below._ And they would love him.

But, how could he?

In this freak reality, he didn't even exist according to that bastard goblin at the bank.

Harry's throat constricted with emotion. What he wanted he could never have. He gave an anguished cry and ran from heaven.

* * *

For hours, Harry paced the dark streets of Knockturn Alley, now familiar. His mind was racing against himself trying to rationalize the events. His footsteps echoed along the street as he turned a seedy corner. The streets were soaked and shivering during the night.

The entire walkway was lined with several shops, each bearing illicit goods. A small number of denizens still remained patrolling the street. A gorgeous group of young women lounged outside of the local pub, laughing between themselves. However, the gibbous moon revealed their inhuman nature with their sharp fangs and demonic eyes. Harry increased his pace eagerly to get out of there.

After a while, He finally found what he was looking for. A shady young man was leaning against the wall in an inconspicuous manner. The former boy-who-lived approached him with his eyes downcast.

"I want two galleons worth of roll-ups."

The drug dealer looked at the child before him.

" You with the Aurors," He questioned suspiciously.

Harry scowled at him before replying," Look mate, take it or leave it. I had a long day."

"Alright bruv, we gotta deal."

They mutually exchanged their goods. The entire time during the transaction, the drug-dealer was watching Harry's money pouch unsubtly. The drug-dealer grinned as he noticed there weren't anyone nearby. _I swear if this bloke tries any fucking funny businesses,_ Harry thought darkly.

Not even three seconds had passed after they parted when Harry heard a suspicious noise behind him. He whirled around and instantly cast the shield charm.

" _Protego!"_

In a flash of brilliant light, the invisible shield was summoned and immediately absorbed the incoming stunner. Sparks flew as the shield, and the spell clashed in midair. The drug-dealer gasped and stumbled back in shock. He clearly didn't expect such proficient use of magic from an eleven-year-old child.

 _How predictable,_ Harry thought derisively. He decided now was a good as time as any to style on his incompetent opponent. In his madness, He started out by flexing off his nonexistent eleven-year-old muscles. The drug-dealer looked at him confusedly and determined now was the time to run. But Harry wasn't done yet, He shuffled in a dance and folded his wand arm behind his back to cast the finishing trick shot.

" _Petrificus Totalus!"_

The spell nailed the drug-dealer right in his arse. The slimy man collapsed rigidly in the middle of his gait. When Harry reached him, he grabbed the low-life by his grimy shirt and smacked him across his face.

 _ **THWAK**_ _!_

"If you _ever_ try to me pick on me again, _bruv,_ you might need a new face. Got it _bruv_ ," Harry snarled. The unfortunate bandit's eyes squirmed with fear. Who the hell was this kid? Harry tossed the petrified low-life back to the ground, wiping his hands clean. It seemed even in this strange world that people were out to get him.

Harry left after robbing the man of all his roll-ups.

* * *

Harry hunkered down in one of the many abandoned corridors in Knockturn alley. There wasn't much security in this area leaving plenty of room for homeless folk like him. Which he now was. He puffed on his joint quietly. He let the drug course through every cell on his body. Slowly, the smoky vapors allowed mind to relax and think rationally.

He had checked everything and everywhere. He apparated to every single place he knew to find some familiarity. However, the world had been transformed into something altogether bizarre and unfamiliar. Harry had never felt so alone in the world. In fact, even time itself had changed. The year was 1991. The same year Harry escaped his torturous muggle prison and truly lived for the first time.

His house? Gone.

His company? Gone.

Teddy? Gone.

There were very few things he recognized about this alternate dimension. He knew that he was now stuck in his eleven-year-old self and he apparently didn't exist before. The only reason he came here was due to a mysterious foul abomination that spat him here. For all Harry knew of this world, Voldemort could still be alive, just waiting to strike. A bitter chuckle burst from his throat.

He had just started to rebuild his life from the war. Now, in a fraction of time, it was all ripped away. It was just so incredibly unfair. Somewhere out there, Teddy was crying out for his godfather.

Harry aimed his wand at his temple. There was nothing for him in this hell. Everyone was happy without him. His parents were alive and joyful. Nobody would miss him; nobody cared for him. After all, he didn't even exist.

He was an outsider here. An outsider from beyond. Tears ran down his ruddy face. It had been a long day.

He hoped Teddy would forgive him.

" _Avada Keda—"_

"Are you alright, my boy."

An old, destitute looking man with a staff interrupted him. His youth and wealth were missing, but his eyes held the secrets of a thousand lifetimes. He was dressed in a shabby brown robe that covered most of his emaciated body.

Harry flushed red with embarrassment after being caught in his suicidal act. He tossed his wand away in shame and covered his face with his hands. Normally, Harry was the strong one in the past. He was the sole bearer of hardships that Ron and Hermione couldn't even begin to imagine. But now, Harry just wanted to give up.

The old man picked up Harry's wand and sat down next to him in solidarity. A comfortable silence settled in between them. The old man's grandfatherly presence almost dispelled Harry's inner turmoil. He began to feel that he could even trust this stranger.

"You come to me at a strange point in my life," Harry finally said.

The old man smiled and replied, "We all have our moments of weakness, Harry; there is nothing to be ashamed about. Even Merlin himself would have cowered in your position."

The boy-who-lived eyes widened in shock. "How…how do you know me? Nobody recognizes me in this world. I would trade every flaw of fame instead of this apathy. I feel like a ghost in this realm."

The aged man guffawed happily. "Oh, you should see the look on your face! Even an aged fossil like me can get enjoyment out of simple things," he exhaled with mirth.

He clapped Harry on the back gently and pressed the holly and phoenix wand back into his hand. "Harry, the boy-who-lived, I know many things, my boy. I know everything that can be known about you."

Harry face lit up with hope, "Are you Fate? Or Death? Can you send be back into my dimension," he pleaded with inner desire.

The old man's face fell.

"My boy, I am neither of those and all of those. But, even such power is beyond me."

The elder gestured toward the brightly light stars. They were shining unnaturally bright, almost in defiance of the light pollution. "Only some greater cosmic force beyond the stars can help you with that, my boy," he whispered.

"I believe you met such a creature in your excursion in Somber Grove."

Silence again descended upon them. This time, however, it was much more uncomfortable.

Harry spoke up again, "Could I be here because of some prophecy? It might make sense then."

The old man shook his head again." Harry, I don't think you're here for on any predestined purpose. There is no prophecy or thread of fate that I know of. However, what I do know is that you hold the spirit of a true warrior. You have fought and defeated a powerful dark lord before your twenties. You won the Triwizard Tournament at age fourteen. I cannot help but be so proud," the old man beamed at him.

"Despite your accomplishments, you and I know both know that you have been cheated greatly in life. You should think of this as an opportunity instead of a curse. This is your chance to start anew and rise to the challenge as a true warrior. When you faced that foul monster of antediluvian evil down in Somber Grove, it couldn't consume you, Harry. You, whose heart is of the purest light cannot be defeated by even a cosmic scourge. Instead, it spat you _right back out_ ," the old man lectured.

The mysterious elder reached out and touched Harry on his chest. His body briefly went transparent, revealing a white glowing flame _inside_ him. It was so bright that it illuminated the entire dark alleyway, exposing every single grimy crack.

"You don't need some inane prophecy to prognosticate your greatness, Harry. With the raw purity of will, _you will be great_. _"_

Harry was comforted by the elder's grand speech. He flushed with embarrassment, but he realized it was all true. There was no point on dwelling on what couldn't be solved and what he lost. Instead, Harry can rebuild and even thrive. He didn't have to die just yet. After all, everyone was still alive in this world. Maybe, those daydreams can finally come true.

He might be nothing right now, just dust and rock. But even rock and dirt can compress deep within the earth to form the most shining diamond.

The old man got up and patted Harry on the head. "You should rest easy for now as the coming days will test you greatly," he advised.

Instantly, Harry could feel himself getting sleepy. His eyelids started drooping.

"After all the darkest hour never comes in the night."

* * *

When Harry woke up, the old man was gone. He stretched, trying to get the blood flowing. Sleeping on the streets was rough, even for a young kid. The pavement made his back hurt, and the cold made the joints feel funny. Still, the twenty-eight in an eleven-year-old felt better than ever. After a quick _Scourgify,_ Harry apparated to east London with renewed purpose.

Harry decided that after such a cheerless, gloomy day, the best way to start this morning is with a fried and fatty breakfast. He arrived at a particularly authentic looking place called _Things and Wings._ It was a home-style and compact restaurant that had a comprehensive menu of Caribbean, American and other comfort food. Harry could smell the grease from a mile away.

As soon as he opened that door, he was confronted by a complex mingling of spicy and savory aromas. The bistro had a homey ambiance with its low-rise oak tables and rustic chairs. The walls were covered with black and white pictures from the Great Depression era. A radio in the back was playing some relaxing American jazz music.

The owner was an American ex-pat, judging by his rich and slow drawl, from the American south. Strangely, He seemed to be placed under a confounding charm. Harry wondered who would put a charm such a nice-looking person, but he wasn't going to complain due to his lack of muggle cash. He smiled at Harry in a weird manner as he handed him his order.

Harry might not like this new and strange world, but the wings were making a good case otherwise. They came in sizzling hot, almost begging to be eaten. The outside double-battered breading was perfectly crispy and made a satisfying _crunch_. The spicy sauce sent Harry on a tour of the tropical Caribbean. More importantly, the juicy meat was delectably soft and thoroughly cooked. It almost fell off the bones by itself.

"Hey bossman, these wings are simply impeccable," Harry called out, admiringly.

The owner guffawed heartily." James, If I had a pound for every time you came in here and said that I would've retired," replied the owner happily.

Harry almost dropped the chicken wing he was eating.

* * *

Harry's next stop was right back in Knockturn Alley. He couldn't remember a time when he came here for anything except drugs, but this was no ordinary time. After breakfast, Harry got to thinking real hard about his situation.

He decided that he needed to conceal his identity. Even at the bistro with a confounded witness, his face could be traced back to the Potters. Given the fact that Harry didn't exist here, he could only imagine the complications that would arise from there. Harry didn't think the world was ready for a dimensional traveling alien. Besides, the ministry would probably want to abduct him and perform all sorts of nasty experiments.

Unfortunately, despite being a proficient wizard, Harry was terrible at glamour charms. His last attempt to glamour his face ended up resembling a misshapen troll. Despite this setback, there was an easy solution to this.

He walked briskly until he stopped at his latest destination. It was a dingy little shop that had an assortment of trinkets displayed on a curved pane. Overhead on the dark storefront sign was inscribed in gold letters, _Borgin and Brukes._

Harry entered and quickly locked the door behind him. He shuttered the blinds and strut through store, browsing briefly. On the outside, it appeared the store was closed.

 _This place amazing! But, it's pricey as hell,_ Harry thought, impressed.

A seedy looking man arose from underneath. He quickly tried to smoothen his hair with his fingers before greeting Harry.

"Welcome to _Borgin and Brukes_ , how may I assist you, good sir," announced Borgin in an insufferable oily voice. He peered curiously at Harry. Usually, his customers weren't children with hideous twisted faces.

Harry pushed a folded piece of paper and placed his sack of galleons on the counter. Borgin greedily grinned at the fat money pouch before examining the list.

He drew his breath before speaking in his best naïve, child-like voice, "I'm here to buy some things for my father's room décor. Twelve-thousand galleons should be enough for everything."

Borgin's eyes bulged at the money amount before replying.

"My, _my,_ you have quite a shopping list: a Sunfire Cape, Spell-thief's totem, Tear of the Goddess, and a Disc of Aeon! Your father has excellent taste, Mr. …?"

"Barnaby" Harry replied savagely. This was all his fault anyway. "But there is one item father really wanted," he continued.

"Pray tell, and I will do best to help you Mr. Barnaby," simpered Borgin. It seemed like adults always talked weirdly around children. He could physically feel Borgin lower his guard when talking to an apparent juvenile. However, Harry was no mere child.

"I need a Mask of the Nameless."

"Oh my, I keep that one in the back for its _special_ properties. Let me bring it right out," replied Borgin, almost giggling with avarice.

 _Jackpot,_ Harry thought viciously. In the exact moment Borgin turned around, Harry silently drew his wand and muttered under his breath.

" _Stupefy!"_

The red stunning spell hissed and struck Borgin right on his skull. The slimy vendor collapsed right in his tracks. Harry grinned victoriously at his exact aim. For good measure, he snapped the storekeeper's wand and tied him up. It was a dark day for the trader of dark goods.

He snooped around the shop until he found an expandable trunk that probably belonged to Borgin. After decrypting all the security charms with runes, Harry could now begin pillaging the entire shop.

 _Damn, I'm good,_ Harry thought pridefully.

A significant portion of the curios and trinkets were rubbish. Most of them were outright cursed on touch and were meticulously labeled as such. However, a small number of them were priceless treasures, such as the Mask of the Nameless.

Borgin had even owned this in Harry's previous dimension before the DMLE raided him. It was enchanted only to come off if the user willed it, effectively hiding one's identity. It was a steel hooded mask that covered everything except for the mouth.

After looting the entire shop clean, Harry shrank the trunk and placed it in his pocket. Before Harry left, he went back to Borgin unmasked and covered in his terrible glamour. In vain, the shopkeeper was flailing against his restraints. A muffled threat sputtered from his gagged mouth futilely. He was being robbed by a child! How inconceivable!

Harry tossed him a single galleon and pointed his wand at Borgin's temple.

"Keep the change," he smirked.

" _Obliviate!"_

* * *

Greta, the owner of the _Magical Menagerie,_ had a busy day ahead of her. The store had many customers because of approaching school year. Her store didn't exactly have the easiest inventory. The animals were always noisy and demanded attention.

There were many first-years coming in to shop for a familiar or pet. She was proud that her store provided many students their first opportunity to have pets. Usually, the students were curious and talkative, so when a creepy masked kid came in and stood silently in her shop, she began to feel unnerved.

Harry stood in front of a disorganized pack of animals. The _Magical Menagerie_ wasn't exactly the most neatly arranged store. It made shopping particularly painful. Each creature cried out trying to catch his eye almost saying ' _Pick me, Pick me!_ '. He wished he could buy them all, but unfortunately, Harry wasn't made of money.

"Are you sure you don't need any help, dear," called Greta. She had her hands full trying to calm an angry fire crab. Harry glanced at her narrowly avoiding a deadly fire plume.

"No thank you, ma'am," replied Harry. He peered at the cages containing ravens. He preferred ravens to owls when delivering letters. Harry couldn't bring himself to buy a new owl. He had never gotten over Hedwig. Sadly, Hedwig wasn't there in _Eeylops Owl Emporium_.

' _Pick me, you ugly bastard!'_

Harry's eyes widened in surprise at the mysterious voice. Could animals actually talk?

' _I don't think shouting at him a hundred times will make him pick us._ '

' _He won't pick us because Drowsy over here won't do anything!'_

He looked around, trying to find the source of the noise.

' _Shut up Righty; I'm TRYING to think of a way out of here!_ '

' _Oh please, I don't think you two have brains to think with! You're too stupid, and he's essentially a vegetable._ '

Finally, Harry found where the mysterious voice was coming from. A baby, three-headed, Runespoor snake was deep in argument amongst themselves. The left and right heads were hissing angrily while the middle was dozing peacefully.

' _Hey, HEY,_ ' Harry called out to them.' _If I buy you guys out, will you three stop bickering and behave?_ '

Instantly, the snake heads stopped arguing. The left and right head turned and stared at him in shock. The middle one, Drowsy, abruptly lifted himself from his sleep and announced dramatically, ' _The speaker will become the new lord of light. We must guide him, using our knowledge, to defeat the incoming terrible evil. It is our duty to join him and repair the good honor of snakes from the clutches of darkness.'_

Drowsy dropped back to sleep after his proclamation.

' _Like I said, he's a vegetable.'_

' _Don't worry little guys, I'll get you out of here,'_ Harry assured.

"Are you talking to the snakes?"

Bewildered, Harry whirled around. A singularly striking young girl was watching his whole exchange between him and the Runespoor. The girl was dressed in a modest but costly-looking robe. She had long, wavy, blonde hair framed with a charming oval face. The girl approached him with bright, blue eyes filled with enthusiasm.

"Can you tell me what they're saying," she asked excitedly.

 _Creepy, masked child seen talking to snakes. Nice job keeping a low profile,_ Harry thought sarcastically.

"No, I think I'm good," responded Harry. He didn't want to be seen doing this -the less attention he brought to himself, the better.

The blonde-haired girl grabbed his arm. She had a curious look in her eyes. He forgot how eager kids were. He wished his employees were this energetic towards work.

"Please, do you mind? I really don't care what other people think. I think it's really neat and-," She babbled breathlessly.

"It's really none of your _business_ , little girl," Harry finally spat out. "Now piss off."

Harry regretted his words as soon as he said them. The girl looked shocked and hurt at his callous response.

"Oh, alright then, sorry to bother you" she mumbled, dejectedly.

She stormed out of the store with a teary face. Greta, the shopkeeper, shook her head at him disapprovingly. Suddenly in the most ill-timed moment, Harry got an idea. Inwardly groaning, he quickly bought the snakes and a raven before leaving to find and apologize to the girl.

* * *

Harry placed his pets in his pocket trunk before barging out into the busy streets. His new goal was to find the girl and question her for information. After all, children knew so many things, and they don't even ask why you're questioning them. He remembered just how enlightening Ron was when they first met. Harry hoped he could still find her. Maybe then, he could finally get his bearings in this confusing world.

It was a mild August afternoon, and there was a crowd of shoppers getting ready for the new school year. There was an assortment of parents and their excited children intermingling like a school of fish. Thankfully, Harry was able to spot a flash of golden blonde hair among the motley crowd.

He quickly chased her down and tapped her on the shoulder. Abruptly, she spun around facing him. Gone was her sad, sullen face and replace with a chilling emotionless mask.

"What do you want, little _boy,_ " she asked coldly. Harry almost cringed from the sharp jab. Andromeda always said he was terrible with kids. He held his hands spread out in a surrender-like fashion.

"Look, I just came back to apologize. I was very rude, and my response was uncalled for," Harry replied diplomatically. Her frozen visage remained, unmoved by his response.

"Apology accepted," She curtly said. The blonde-haired girl made a move to turn away, but Harry quickly grabbed her arm. The events of the shop were almost mirroring.

"Hey, wait—before you go, I just wanted to ask you something."

She tried to wrench her arm free but gave up in favor of his superior grip. The situation was now looking even worse. Now, a creepy masked kid was harassing a young girl.

"I don't want to talk to you. You're mean and _weird_ ," she glared at him, eyeing his mask.

Harry racked his brain trying to think of some way to convince her. Luckily, Harry wasn't completely incompetent with children. In all his experience dealing with Teddy, he learned that all kids have a weakness, bribery. He glanced nearby at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

"If you let me ask you some questions, I'll buy you anything from the Florean's parlor," Harry negotiated. He studied her face for any sign of approval but didn't find anything. Suddenly, a triumphant smirk shattered her frigid front.

"Deal," she replied, entirely too smug.

Harry sighed with relief.

* * *

The boy-who-lived stared at the quadruple scoop ice cream cone. It was a covered entirely with a jumbled mishmash of garnishes. At that point, Harry wondered if it was transformed into an ice cream bar.

"Did you really need four scoops and all 128 extra toppings," Harry questioned with disbelief. He patted his wallet regretfully. She paused in the middle of her gleeful licking to look at him.

"You said you would buy _anything_ ," The girl replied in a sing-song voice. She was looking so irritatingly happy at his apparent mistake.

"So, What's your name?" Harry asked, beginning the interrogation. He formulated a mental checklist, so he could decide what to ask next.

"Daphne Greengrass," she answered, in between licks. The name sounded familiar, but Harry couldn't recall from where.

"When and how did Voldemort fall?"

She jumped in fright at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. Daphne scowled at him angrily, "Do you live under a rock? You're not supposed to say _HIS_ name!"

"Alright, alright, I'll keep that in mind," Harry quickly pacified her." Just tell me how he died."

The blonde girl looked at him oddly before replying. "You-know-who died on 1981 after Neville Longbottom, the boy-who-lived, defeated him from his own curse. He's so dreamy," Daphne added, daydreaming.

 _Is Neville is the boy-who-lived? Bloody hell,_ Harry wondered, his mind racing.

"By the way, what's your name?" She asked.

"It's Harry."

A brief pause filled in between them. "Harry, can I watch you talk to the snakes?"

"N-, Yeah sure, whatever," He replied absentmindedly. His head was still on Neville and the possible implications for the prophecy.

"Why do you wear a mask? It's kind of odd, don't you think?"

"Hey, I'm asking the questions here!" Harry snapped. His entire train of thought broke off into oblivion. In response, she gave him a heart-wrenching pout. He could feel his insides melting at the sight of her sad blue eyes.

"I'll tell you why, when we're friends, okay," He relented. _Bloody manipulative brat._

"You want to be friends?" Daphne said, surprised.

"Sure, Why not-."

"Look who showed up!" A loud outburst came behind them. Startled, Daphne and Harry whirled around. A young, elegant-looking girl about Daphne's age approached them. The girl had thick, jet-black hair that fell to her shoulders and distinctive almond-shaped green eyes. Her appearance was unnaturally perturbing, but Harry couldn't tell why.

She sneered at the blonde-haired girl in contempt. Daphne had reflexively contorted back into a glacial expression. Harry could feel a clear air of hostility coming in between them. Should he interfere? He really should. After all, he was the adult in the situation.

"If it isn't Miss Unpopular," The mystery girl taunted. "I almost forgot you even existed. You weren't at any of the big birthday parties, such a shame."

Daphne remained silent with her frozen mask. It looked like she didn't even acknowledge the newcomer, but Harry could see her resolve cracking in her eyes. The green-eyed girl moved closer and jeered right in her face.

"You think your stupid silent treatment does anything? I bet you go home crying to daddy every night. Are you really eating that entire thing? You might eat too much and turn into a cow."

" _SHUT UP, VIOLET_ " Daphne shrieked. Her cool composure broke into a fiery rage. _"Just go away!_ "

The girl, Violet, stormed right up to Daphne's face. They were almost nose to nose.

Or else what," she hissed, maliciously. Then, she gave a mighty shove.

Harry watched in horror as Daphne stumbled and crumpled to the ground. His twelve-galleon investment, the giant ice cream cone, toppled from her hand and crashed into a colossal mess of ice-cream and sugar. The crowd around them all hushed and stopped to stare at the bizarre scene. Daphne, the poor girl, was close to sobbing with her blue eyes already glistening.

Violet laughed hysterically. The whole scene was something out of a schoolyard bullying movie. Harry saw red.

" _Silencio_ _!_ "

The charm prematurely shut her giggling. Harry stomped right next to her with his hands trembling in rage. His wand was bared and itching to violently murder something. Bright sparks flashed from the wand tip as if the wand itself was angry.

"You're the most _pathetic_ subhuman I've ever met," he roared at her. "I wouldn't be surprised if you're the byproduct of a house-elf and a cow. I don't know what the hell your problem is, but If I see you bully Daphne again, I will _hurt_ you."

Violet whimpered in fear at the masked boy. The metallic mask shrouded his visage and made him seem demonic. She could feel the sheer magical power rolling off him. Violet was frozen in her spot, the menacing aura holding her in a tightening grip. Two pairs of almost familiar green eyes clashed against each other. Hers trembled in fear while his remained firm, intimidatingly.

She ran crying, as quickly as she came.

* * *

Harry sighed tiredly. That was probably the worst way to act maturely. He reacted like that girl was Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake! Instead of deescalating the situation, he went off on her like another bully. He was honestly a terrible adult.

Harry turned back toward his young accomplish. Daphne was still on the floor looking at him in awe. He walked up to her and reached out, offering her his right arm.

"Need a hand, friend," he gave her a lopsided grin before realizing the mask probably made it horrifying. She got up and crashed into him fiercely, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"You're the best, Harry."

* * *

AN: There will be no update next week. I have a project deadline for work and my boss is being a complete tool about it.

Let me know what you guys think!

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**The Outsider From Beyond**

 **Tags:** AU, Dimensional Travel, Mostly Light! Harry, and Powerful! Harry

 **DISCLAIMER** : I do not own _Harry Potter_ , or any affiliated characters, and make no profit from this story

* * *

Daphne and Harry wandered throughout the crowded streets impulsively. They went around buying all the necessary supplies and other knick-knacks for her first school year. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of his face as he tried to keep up with the energetic and chirpy girl. She chatted happily about her future life and plans at Hogwarts while Harry listened inattentively. He silently complained as his arms started burning with effort from lugging her trunk but continued to chauffeur her by opening doors and such.

The whole experience was oddly nostalgic of his first trip with Teddy. His godson couldn't wait to sample every shop and Harry simply didn't have the backbone to give a firm no. By the time they were finished, Harry was confident that Teddy had convinced him to buy half of all the total merchandise in Diagon Alley. He still remembered an amused Andromeda scolding him for spoiling her grandson.

Meanwhile, Harry's mind was occupied with other less cheerful things. For instance, he still didn't know where he was going to sleep tonight.

"Then, Tracey and I will stay up all night having fun! It'll be like a never-ending slumber party." Daphne gushed excitedly, making him smile.

Harry forced a chuckle in between breaths, "I… _gasp…._ don't think Hogwarts is going to be exactly like that."

Daphne, who was looking at a nearby jewelry store, scoffed, "You're just jealous. Don't worry, we'll invite you too."

He stopped tiredly in his tracks before letting go of the trunk. "I can't come with you."

She abruptly halted her window shopping to look at him with concerned expression. "What do you mean you can't come? I thought all wizards and witches in Britain get their education at Hogwarts, and I know you're no muggle."

"I never got an acceptance letter." Harry mumbled, slowly. The gears in his mind started slowly churning as he quickly tried to come up with a plausible backstory.

"But, aren't you the same age as me?" Daphne asked, staring at him in disbelief. He nodded silently in response.

"Apparently, my _parents_ never enrolled me."

Daphne suddenly got a determined look in her eyes. She squeezed his hand in comfort, "Don't worry, I'll go talk to my mum. She knows Dumbledore personally, and you'll be at Hogwarts before you can say Salazar Slytherin!"

Harry wordlessly grunted back at her. He was feeling restless and had difficulty concentrating. The feelings were accompanied by a familiar craving for another smoke. He searched his pockets clumsily with trembling hands for a roll.

"What are you looking for?" Daphne inquired, looking at his frantic fumbling.

"Nothing." He lied.

Harry struggled for a few moments before he found what he was looking for. He brandished the cigar triumphantly before lighting it with a brush of his wand. Instantly after a quick puff, Harry found himself feeling refreshed. It was like a dense fog in his brain had been lifted.

Daphne watched the whole thing with a scowl. "I didn't know you smoked." She grimaced at the horrid smelling vapor.

"There is so much about me that you still don't know." He replied, reveling in a drug fueled haze. His heart pulsed excitedly and pumped the feeling of mild bliss throughout his veins. A wide grin split his face involuntarily.

Daphne started curiously at the masked boy. His entire mood had shifted from a somber tone into a joyful spirit. It even looked sort of cool after getting over the smell. She lightly poked at his outer coat pocket with a finger.

"Can I have one?" She asked, shyly.

"Absolutely not!" Harry snapped. Almost reflexively, he brushed off her hand. Daphne shot back a cross look.

"Well, you don't have to look so smug about it!"

Her sharp remark quickly wrenched him free of his brief euphoria.

Harry glanced at the innocent, blonde girl and then at the roll in his hand.

She started coughing up a fit after catching a slight waft of smoke.

"'Sorry, didn't mean it like that." Harry mumbled apologetically and looked away in embarrassment.

Daphne suddenly got an understanding and wise look in her eyes.

"It's okay."

During all this, the cigar appeared to be taunting him. It wasn't the first time his habit caused conflict with other people. He hesitated before reluctantly tossing the cigar in the trash. Harry sighed tiredly and grabbed the handle of the heavy trunk. He didn't want to be a bad influence on his young friend.

"Come on, let's find your mother."

* * *

They walked along the bustling street in search of Daphne's mother. Multiple times, Harry had to drag Daphne away from different shops while en route. Each of the crafty peddlers attempted to cajole the affluent looking girl until they were faced with her grim-looking, masked companion.

"Can't we just take a peek at that stall! That man was awfully nice to us." Daphne complained.

Harry steeled his resolve before giving a firm shake of his head. Thankfully, for his sake, they were able to quickly reach their destination without furthermore interruptions.

The pair reached their destination at a pleasant, posh-looking teashop that had a distinct style of an 18th century London storefront. It was painted in a luxurious dark burgundy and framed with these pristine rectangular glass windows. Behind the gold trimmed glass featured exotic and expensive tea sets from different regions; Harry recognized at least two of them being from Vietnam and India.

The patrons of the shop were all dressed in opulent but formal robes and hats. Even the house-elves, serving everyone with brimming hot tea, were dressed in fancy sheets and loafers. The entire affair was a testament to British bourgeois culture.

Harry reached for the door handle but was beaten by Daphne. She called out to him softly to grab his attention.

"Harry, before we go in, let me do the talking, alright? My mother is a very _proper_ lady. I don't think she will agree to help if you ask her yourself considering your _different_ outfit." Daphne explained, glancing meaningfully at his mask.

Harry gave an indifferent look before nodding in acceptance. If he had a place to sleep for the year, he didn't care.

Immediately after opening the door, they were smothered with almost overpowering flowery and fragrant scents. A few of the customers and house-elves smiled approvingly at the charming girl before shooting a disapproving glare at the masked boy. A house-elf quickly came to assist them with a welcoming smile.

"Come in!" The elf gestured invitingly with a coaxing hand.

"My name is Herb and welcome to _Rosenwald_ _Tea House_. How may Herb help you two?"

Daphne straightened her back and adopted a regal posture. Her normally warm and bubbly personality was exchanged for a haughty demeanor.

"Your presence is not required elf as we shan't be looking for any tea. However, we would like to know where we might find Lady Greengrass. She should be having a drink right here with the others." Daphne replied with an almost snobbish voice. The house elf simply smiled and bowed in response before directing them at a crowded table.

Harry gasped at her openly with his mouth slightly ajar. The whole pureblood mannerisms reminded him vaguely of Draco Malfoy. He shuddered at the mere thought of his old school rival. Not missing a beat, Daphne gave him an impatient glance and dragged him toward her mother.

* * *

The table was comfortably packed with an entourage of well-off women. They were even more opulent-looking compared to the other patrons. Each were adorned with extravagant jewelry and fabulous robes.

One of the women appeared to be dominating the conversation. Some of the ladies were hanging on to her every word and giggling exactly when she laughed. It was clear who the leader and who the followers were. She looked like an older carbon copy of Daphne, but her makeup and accessories made her breathtakingly gorgeous. Her image enchanted his eyes making it hard to pull away. Not for the first time, Harry wished he was back in his twenty-eight-year-old self, so he could at least get a shot at her.

Unfazed by everything, Daphne approached the preoccupied woman and lightly tugged on her arm. The woman was breezing herself with a levitating fan before noticing her. The two of them glanced at each other meaningfully almost like a mental conversation with hidden cues and gestures. She smiled at the group before gesturing towards Daphne.

"Oh, if you could all please excuse me for a moment, it appears my daughter _requires_ my assistance."

The coven all giggled before chiming in.

"-Oh, go ahead, dear"

"-Daphne is looking beautiful as ever-!"

"- Merlin, Daphne looking just like you!"

The girl was blushing heavily from all the compliments but managed a curtsey to thank everyone.

Suddenly, amidst all the chatter, a clear strong voice broke out. This one was definitely not one of the mewling 'followers'.

"I haven't seen you in quite some time, Daphne. You're truly grown up!" Narcissa Malfoy called out. Harry shook his head in surprise. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed her before. She was looking much younger and healthier compared to his dimension. The war had put an enormous mental burden on the Malfoy matriarch, leading to multiple suicide attempts. Hopefully, this time she wouldn't side with a lunatic obsessed with burying him six feet under.

Narcissa went right towards Daphne and intrusively clasped a hand under her chin. She studied the now uncomfortable girl almost predatorily before turning towards her mother.

"She'll definitely be beating the boys away at Hogwarts with a pretty face like that, Dorothea. Why don't we both come to an _understanding_?I'm sure my boy, Draco, would love a brilliant girl like her."

The entire table went silent at her statement.

Dorothea, Daphne's mother, quickly gave a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes before replying, "Oh Narcissa, you're such are an impulsive matchmaker. Sadly, I might have to think on that one for a bit. Perhaps in a few years, yes?"

The Malfoy matriarch gave Lady Greengrass a fierce stare while lightly brushing Daphne's golden hair.

"They say that _mutual agreements_ are one of the best ways to build alliances. I'm sure you probably have need of such things considering your husband's erroneous position during that _conflict_. Besides, I only want the very _best_ for my boy. You understand, don't you?"

Dorothea forcibly pulled Daphne away from Narcissa protectively.

"Likewise, I don't think my daughter is ready for that or for your _other_ plans."

The two women stared at each other in an standoff. Both were eager to push and force each other down in the name of social dominance. The tension was so thick that Harry felt it could be cut with a knife. Abruptly, during the stalemate, Narcissa broke out into a vicious sneer.

"Well, they grow up so fast don't they? It was really a pleasure to have you here, Dorothea. We should definitely do this more often."

The Lady Greengrass gave a cool nod before turning on her heel out of the shop with her daughter in tow.

* * *

The three left the teashop with its warm and scented air into the breezy outside. The weather seemed to be subtly preparing for the coming winter and autumn chill. Dorothea looked strangely at the masked boy; he looked like one of those hooligans from Knockturn Alley. Dorothea hoped her daughter didn't get in trouble with his types.

"Excuse me young man, but is there a reason you are following us?"

Daphne held up a placating hand to confirm her fears.

"He's with me, mother. Harry's a friend."

Dorothea gave him a fake smile before reaching out to shake his hand. She had a surprisingly firm grip, despite her feminine appearance.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. Do you mind if Daphne and I have a family conversation? It'll only take a minute, dear."

Harry just shrugged in response. The whole tea shop scene had left him dazed. He never mixed well with pureblood culture and all its strange etiquettes.

Dorothea dragged her daughter aside before quickly casting a privacy charm. By the furious look on her mother's face, she didn't look pleased with her new friend.

"What on earth do you think you're doing, Daphne? Why are you hanging out with this future convict?"

"He's not a _criminal,_ mother." Daphne snapped back.

"Oh really?" Dorothea asked exasperatedly. She gestured at the masked boy.

"He's wearing a creepy mask and he _reeks_ like he's been sleeping on the streets! _Harry_ could be a polyjuiced kidnapper for all we know! Us purebloods shouldn't associate with _street urchins!_ "

"He's not a polyjucied kidnapper! I finally made a new friend since Tracey, and you're already trying to push him away! Just give him a chance, mother. At least Harry cares about me instead of always being busy with stupid _pureblood functions!_ "

Daphne had crossed her arms and turned away angrily in her tirade. Dorothea's face softened at the mention of friends. It was a particularly sore topic considering how her daughter didn't get along with most of the other girls. Feeling guilty, the Lady Greengrass hugged her from behind and whispered in her ear.

"I'm really sorry for your father and I being so busy. It's just a rough time right now. I wish we could've spent more time together before you left for Hogwarts."

"It's okay; I don't really mind." Daphne sniffed.

She turned the blonde girl's face, so they were facing each other.

"Is everything alright? Anyone giving you trouble?"

Daphne shook her head.

"Not really except for Violet, but Harry took care of that. He said he would stop her if she bothered me again." She gave a weak smile.

Dorothea glanced back at the strange boy and sighed. Maybe, someone who stood up for her little girl wasn't that bad after all. She hoped she wasn't making a huge mistake. After cancelling the privacy charm, she turned around and faced her daughter's new friend.

"Harry, would you like to come with us home to visit? I think we both would love to know more about you?"

* * *

Harry crashed into the ground.

 _Hard._

The umbrella-shaped portkey was unusually janky and made him lose his balance. He groaned in pain before he lifted himself up with Dorothea's offered hand. Luckily, his eyes were still enchanted or else he would be searching for his glasses as well. After peering at him curiously, The Lady Greengrass tapped his mask with her wand to clean off some of the dirt that stained it. Nearby, Harry could hear Daphne giggling at his misfortune.

"New to portkey travel?" Dorothea asked, with a ghost of a smile on her face. Harry shot her an unseen glare.

The Greengrass estate was as picturesque as a Swiss postcard. The main centerpiece was a six-story, ivory tower capped with a sharp gabled roof. It sat upright almost imperiously on the rolling moor, bordered a nearby thicket of forest. The aptly named green grass was unusually tall, reaching Dorothea's shoulders.

As they walked along a clear-cut path towards the tower, Harry could see a herd of winged-horses circling overhead while others were grazing peacefully. After the three of them quickly entered the tower's pearly-white walls, Harry felt his coat and shoes being lifted in the air and magically stored away. He spun around, startled, only to see the same happening to Daphne and Dorothea.

The tower's halls were filled with a peaceful silence. The walls were painted a graphite grey and lined elegantly with an assortment of paintings, tapestries, and windows to the serene countryside. Slowly, it opened into a grand and luxurious living room. The massive parlor had huge dark drapes for its equally immense windows. The rug was a rich emerald color complimented by a matching circular collection of lounges. For the final lavish touch, it hung a massive chandelier of fantastic bright crystals.

The Greengrass matron sighed and collapsed on one of the sofas before addressing her young charges.

"Alright you two, why don't you show Harry around. I bet he would -."

"I'm hungry." Daphne interrupted. She cocked her head at her mother with an eager expression.

"Can't we get a bite to eat? I bet Harry's also starving." Daphne eyed Harry expectantly.

In the unluckiest moment, his stomach decided to let out a rumbling groan. The Greengrass ladies giggled while Harry looked away in embarrassment.

"Feeling a bit peckish are we?" Dorothea asked, while pinching her daughter's cheek affectionately.

"Why don't you and Harry get your father and sister? They are probably in the courtyard. We'll have dinner in a little bit with one of your _favorites_."

* * *

The duo entered the green and flowery courtyard only to see an unusual sight. Nearby in an open sitting area, a man and a centaur were deep in a heated chess match. The dark-haired, burly man had massive arms and sported a slight fatty gut. His face showed signs of grey-haired ageing but lost none of the youthful vigor. In contrast, the centaur was much wiry, and his lower half could almost pass for a deer.

"Make yer move, this old boy ain't gonna lose to a bloody clopper." The man growled.

The centaur gave a teasing smile with his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, I remember hearing that, around, the last _twenty_ times."

"You goin' ta _play_ or yer just tryin' to piss me off, lad."

Daphne chose that moment to run in.

"Daddy!" She called, excitedly while running up to give him a hug.

The angry man looked startled for a moment before he turned to face his daughter with a smile.

Meanwhile, with a quick sleight of hand, the centaur's hands blurred as he deftly manipulated the chess pieces behind the man's back. Harry stared at the centaur in awe at his finger-work. Catching his eye, the centaur winked and gave Harry a cheeky grin.

"I hate to break this up Alfred, but you're checkmated."

Alfred spun around indignantly before angrily throwing his hands up in the air.

"Feckin' hell, how'd ya win, lad?" The man asked morosely.

The centaur puffed up his chest with pride, "They say that centaurs have the gift of foresight. You simply didn't have a chance beating me. The game was over before it began."

Alfred scoffed at the mention of foresight. He slumped defeatedly in his chair and reached out with a handshake.

"Well anyways, good game, Horatio. Damn fine head ya got on those four-little shit for legs."

The centaur grinned triumphantly and reciprocated back. But before his hand reached Alfred's, the man slapped Horatio away.

"Least I'm not a cheatin' _virgin_ , ya ugly filly!"

Alfred let loose an infectious, bellyaching laugh at the centaur's expense. Horatio was frozen in place with his right-arm extended and a crestfallen face. Even Daphne and Harry burst into giggles from the man's antics. In jest, Daphne's father clapped a hand on the centaur's shoulder.

"Perhaps we'll have a rematch when you've sowed yer oats in some wee little mare. Maybe I'll be dead by then." He snickered.

After their bickering, the sun started lowering and Horatio set off in the neighboring neck of woods.

A house-elf popped into the courtyard to announce that dinner was ready. The three of them quickly followed the elf into the dining area where Dorothea and a little dark-haired girl, presumably Daphne's sister, were waiting for them.

They sat on a wide circular mahogany table that held platters of delicious aromatic food. The dishes were enchanted to automatically serve everyone, but Dorothea made a point to heap some extra sausage and a serving of a hearty beef wellington on Harry's plate. Daphne's sister and father looked at Harry strangely while they were eating.

Dorothea, after noticing their discomfort, said, "So as you all can see, we've got a guest tonight. Harry, why don't you introduce yourself?"

The masked boy gulped nervously. Usually he didn't have any problems speaking to a group of people, but the feeling changed since he was about to feed them a bunch of lies.

"Hello." Harry stammered, "My name's Harry and I'm eleven years old-."

"He can talk to snakes!" Daphne interrupted excitedly.

"Don't be ridiculous girl." Alfred scoffed, despite his daughter's indignation. The Greengrass patriarch turned to Harry with a suspicious scowl while stroking his beard.

"Don't mean ta' go fiddlin' in yer business, but why ya wearing the creepy costume? Never met an honest feller that needed ta hide his face."

Everyone leaned in to hear Harry's response, even Daphne. He sighed internally while thinking over the decision to tell them the truth.

Would they even believe him?

'No way in hell!' Harry decided. The truth was so far-fetched and ludicrous that it would send him straight to a containment asylum.

"The reason I wear this mask," Harry explained, taking a sip of water, "is because I used to be afflicted with Ash-crust leprosy."

The bomb caused a huge commotion in the Greengrass family. Dorothea, shrieking in fright, leaped away from the table making silverware clatter to the floor noisily. The father looked mildly shocked and immediately knocked back a bottle of firewhisky before slamming it on the table. The daughters shouted asking what was wrong.

"I knew there was something wrong with you." Dorothea shrilled fearfully, while pointing a trembling finger. "How _dare_ you come into our house and curse us all with your hideous disease. I should have never have indulged my foolish daughter."

Daphne stood up angrily to defend him. She grabbed him by his shoulder in solidarity.

" _Leave him alone mother!_ He hasn't even done anything wrong!"

Dorothea face blanched. "Daphne! I beg you, _please get away from-_ "

"SILENCE!"Alfred roared, instantly quieting everyone. His voice cascaded out from his hearty chest. He casually swigged down his second bottle of firewhiskey. The man's face was already flush from the potent alcohol.

"I'm not done talkin' yet so calm down." He mumbled, taking another chug. "So laddie, where are yer parents? Can't imagine anybody would let their leper son just prancing about everywhere. I know some folks that'd just kill ya if they found out what ye were."

Harry felt a pang of pain as he thought of Lily and James in Godric's Hollow. He paused for a moment to recover himself.

"My parents are dead. I've been living on my own in the streets for as long as I can remember." Harry replied, flatly. It was one of only half-truths he would share.

Daphne looked shocked at his story. Her innocent blue eyes wide open with concern. She turned to her father with her hands clasped together. Harry genuinely felt ashamed at emotionally manipulating her to help him.

"Please father, can Harry stay with us? We can't just send him out on the streets!" Daphne pleaded emotionally.

" _No! Absolutely not!_ " Dorothea protested. The Greengrass matriarch seemed genuinely fearful of him.

Alfred pondered over Daphne's request drunkenly. He looked around the entire table blearily to gauge everybody's response. Despite his plastered face, he appeared to be stuck deep in thought over the dilemma until he finally shrugged after sloshing another quarter of the bottle.

"Sure th' lad can stay. donae gie a damn." Alfred drunkenly garbled. Not giving up, Dorothea grabbed him by his shoulders, trying to shake him out of his buzzed state.

"Honey, you can't be _serious_! _He's a leper_! A disgusting creature that haunts the minds of any visionary _!_ That _thing, it is an omen_ -one of the worst _\- of_ ruin!"

The entire table went silent at her remark. Daphne remained unaffected and still stood in resistance. Her sister, on the other hand, was now looking at him fearfully and had backed away from the table. Her father had his eyes drooping and was drooling until he snapped himself awake.

"Piss awf wi' yer divination pish," Alfred slurred, incoherently, "Th' lad can stay an that's my final wuid."

He then mumbled inarticulately for a house-elf before collapsing unceremoniously to the ground. For a moment, everything had resumed back into its deceptively calm state.

Dorothea silently glared at Daphne, Daphne returned the glare at her mother, the younger sister tried to hide in background, and Harry uncomfortably was finishing his dinner. The silence was almost suffocating to Harry until it was thankfully shattered by a distressed cry.

" _Oh, poor Master has drunk too much again!_ " A nearby house-elf wailed. The elf immediately began fussing over Alfred like a mother hen. Dorothea broke off from her staring contest and gave a tired sigh.

"Daphne, take _the leper,_ " She glared at Harry venomously, "to one of the guest rooms for tonight. Perhaps Alfred is right, and nothing will ever happen. But, If I find out that _you_ have done anything, then mark my words, I will make you wish you never came here!"

Harry sighed gratefully in response. He would take Dorothea's threats over sleeping in Knockturn alley with its thugs and other unpleasant denizens. In response, Daphne tugged on his hand, pulling him along.

"Come on Harry," Daphne muttered angrily, "just follow me."

The two of them quickly left the table and went up the flight of stairs.

* * *

The pair entered one of the empty rooms on the tower's floor. The room was sparse with a spartan feel to it. A hardy looking bed dominated the empty space alongside a rickety desk. However, it did feature a pleasant balcony that overlooked the moonlit countryside. Daphne anxiously stepped ahead and inspected the inadequate space.

"Well, it isn't much, but welcome home!" She announced, nervously.

Harry pulled out his pocket trunk and expanded it before plopping down on the hardy bed. He glanced at his generous friend enigmatically and sighed.

"I can't stay here. As soon as your father comes to his senses, he'll kick me out. You know that, don't you?"

The blonde girl stayed silent and plopped down next to him on the bed, stretching back. Her blonde hair shrouded her visage making it hard to tell what she was feeling.

"Why can't you stay here?" Daphne asked. Her voice was soft and almost hurt. Her stomach churned at the thought of rejection once again. The toll of loneliness and isolation played with her roiling mind.

He reached out and squeezed her hand gently. Harry didn't want to give up his new friend, but he couldn't burden himself on her family.

"I'm a leper," Harry winced, "Can't you understand my very presence will only bring suffering to you and your family?"

The story was partly true; Dorothea had a legitimate concern due to Harry's fictitious status. In the wizarding world, ash-crust lepers were right next to grims in terms of dangerous omens. In fact, some considered them worse due to their prognostication of a slow fatal end instead of a relativity quick death.

He took a moment to wistfully look out the window before continuing.

"My parents died when I was very young. My best friends died too; one of them was the brightest witch and the other was the best man you could ask for. Both had so much life to live in the world." Harry said.

His throat choked at the mention of his friends. They died long before he was sent here but the scars never faded.

Suddenly Daphne got up and gave him a hard stare. Her hair parted revealing her visage and narrowed blue eyes. Her hands were clenched into a fists almost in anger.

"So, you're just going to give up?" She snapped, angrily. "I don't know what you've been through, but It doesn't _matter._ You can't just keep running away from everything and _I won't let you_! You stood by me today at Diagon Alley so I'm going to stand up for you right now."

Harry looked at Daphne in awe. Her words were stinging but held an admirable fire to them. She walked until she was in the entryway before turning around to look at him.

"I'll see you in the morning, friend."

* * *

 **AN:**

Please review/favorite/like. Your support is much appreciated.

Thank you to my beta, Haphne24


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